Looks Like Time, Smells Like Time
by Whovian overload River Song
Summary: The Doctor notices it the moment he steps out of the TARDIS doors. The very second he lays eyes on her, he knows that it's there. He also knows that she doesn't.


The Doctor notices it the moment he steps out of the TARDIS doors. The very second he lays eyes on her, he knows that it's there. He also knows that she doesn't.

River looks up from her prison cot, smiling brightly at him. She closes her diary, jumps up, and throws her arms around him, planting a thorough kiss on his lips. "Hello, sweetie."

He know's it's late in her time stream. He can smell it: after the Byzantium, but not quite at her pardon yet. He plasters on a soft grin for her. "Hello, love."

His suspicion is confirmed at close proximity. The evidence is in her mind, too, nestled right were she won't look. (He'd long ago figured out how to take a quick peak without getting caught. He doesn't like to... he considers it an invasion of privacy... but he has to make sure). He rearranges the plan in his head so their evening will allow for them to be in the right place at the right time when he lets her know. She won't be able to deny it then. "Clara's asleep in the TARDIS." He says as it pops into his head, mostly to keep his own thoughts on track.

River looks exhausted, he can tell, but conceals it effortlessly. "What have you got for me today, old man? Adventure? Or did you just want a quickie in your snog box?" She teases.

"Clara's gotten to you, hasn't she?" He scoffs.

"Of course she has. The girl is great company, you know." River kisses his nose and releases him from her grip, heading into the definitely-not-a-snog-box.

"Why wouldn't I know that? She's _my_ companion, and I don't choose any old pudding brains to adventure with me," He huffs.

He always sounds grumpier than he is. This, of course, does lead River to use Clara's stupid nickname for him. "Because you chose her for the puzzle, not her personality. Got a little more than you bargained for, didn't you, Mr. Grumpy Face?"

He scowls at the name, forcefully flipping a lever to send them into the vortex. "I think I liked it better when you called me Mr .Song."

"Only in the bedroom, dear," she winks. "You still haven't answered my question."

"And which would that be?" he asks.

She leans casually against the console, looking at him with those big adventurous eyes. "Where are we going?"

"On a date," he says simply.

"Care to be a bit more specific?" She raises an eyebrow.

"A _nice_ date." He glances at her. She gives him a look and he gives in, circling around the console, pressing buttons as he goes. "A nice date with nice food in a nice place. No one trying to kill us, no robots taking over the world, no aliens -well yes aliens- but none who think of us as threats." He ends up in front of her. "Somewhere quiet. Just the two of us."

"When did you get all romantic?" She pokes his shoulder accusingly. She doesn't mind though, it's just that this version of him tends to be smaller in his gestures of romance. "No running? Doesn't count as a date if there's no excitement."

"Oh, there will be excitement. There's... what you might call a surprise for you afterwards." He waves his hand in the air in a general indication as if it tells her exactly what it might be.

"I love surprises." She leans up and kisses his cheek.

"I know you do."

She grins mischievously before running off to go change into something nicer than her prison clothes.

He stays behind and sighs. She won't very much appreciate this surprise. In fact, he has a feeling she might even hate it. It certainly won't be very fun. He isn't even sure how he feels about it.

But at the same time, he seems always to have known. He's seen it in dreams, talked about it with her even, and all the times she seemed like she was hiding something added up to now. Today, the day he discovers one of River's greatest secrets, one she won't even know about until it is much too late.

But it will be alright. It has to be because he's seen it be so. He's seen her smile when she thought about it, making sure the timestreams would stay as they were. She was okay (will be okay), and somehow that makes him okay, too. He will need to be calm today, calm for her. She'll need an anchor…

"Well?" River's voice floating down from the top of the stairs draws him from this thoughts. Her emerald dress is flowing, slightly tighter near the top half. She wears a matching necklace and has her hair pinned up. She bats her eyes at him. "What do you think?"

"Absolutely stunning," he says without hesitation.

She smirks and descends the stairs, very aware of his eyes on her, purposely putting an extra swing into her hips. She pauses of the last step, hand tightening around the railing and breath hitching.

He takes a step towards her. "River?"

"Hmm?" She moves her gaze from the floor up to him.

"You alright?" He raises a suspicious eyebrow. He's sure they still have a few hours,

She waves it off, taking the last step and going right up to him. "Just a bit nauseous."

He nods to show he understands. The symptoms will be showing now, but River won't add them up yet. "Nauseous enough to skip our dinner?"

She shakes her head. "I think a lovely dinner is just what I need. Years of prison food is starting to get to me." She chuckles and her laugh is infectious.

"Don't forget to breathe," he murmurs, keeping up his smile as he toggles more things on the console to send them to their destination.

She frowns, unsure what he means by this, but quickly forgets the comment as they land. She pulls him excitedly to the door. They've landed in a garden of sorts. The sky above them is dark and heavy with night. There are lights strung about the bushes, illuminating flowers. River stares at the sight and the Doctor wraps his arm around her waist. "Excited yet?"

She glances back at him, beaming. "Is this the surprise?"

"No," he says. "The surprise is after dinner. But if you are surprised now, that would be fine, too."

They begin walking into the garden, the Doctor leading her through the elaborate rows of plants and greenery until they come upon the seating area. It's really just a bunch of tables and chairs under a large trellis, but River thinks it's wonderful. After the stress of prison and such things, and having not been feeling well the past few days, it's a relief to have her husband go out of his way to give her something special. Simple, but that might be the part she loves most.

There are no other people there from what River can see. The Doctor goes to pull out a chair for her.

"Such a gentleman," she teases.

He just smirks at her, soaking in her smile like sunshine that might fade at any moment. He goes to sit across from her as a waiter, dressed in a deep burgundy, comes to ask them about drinks. The alien's skin is a celestial blue in contrast to the uniform, with elaborate patterns covering it completely. Before River can ask for a wine, the Doctor orders them both water. She pouts as the waiter leaves and he tries to explain. "I want you sober, this evening. Besides, the alcohol here is completely rubbish." Neither point is completely true.

"You say that about all alcohol," she huffs.

He can't help but laugh a little at how she looks. "I should call you _Mrs._ Grumpy Face."

The comment earns him a hard glare. "Try it and you'll find certain parts of you detatched in thirty seconds flat."

He raises his hands in defeat. Also so all of him will stay attached. "Noted."

.

He figures she's just mad because he doesn't want her having any wine. He, of course, has no way to stop her, but since he asked she'll likely listen.

She doesn't ask for wine when the waiter returns with water, thankfully. They also receive menus to ponder over, though the Doctor already knows what he wants. He puts his menu aside so he can see his wife. She raises an eyebrow at him. "What?" She asks expectantly.

He shrugs. "It's a rare moment that we get to enjoy each other's company without a gun pointed to our heads," he points out. "So, let's talk."

"About what?" she questions, noticing that he does seem to be a bit off. Maybe he's seen something bad happen to her in the future. It sets off a slight worry.

"Anything," he replies. "What's on your mind, the future, life in general..." He tries suggesting.

She bursts out laughing. "Doctor, what has gotten into you? This sudden burst of romance - not that I'm complaining - is a bit odd, even for you. You've taken me out to a nice dinner - understandable - but now you're asking me how my day was. You're _never_ this domestic."

He shrugs again, trying not to give away anything but River is clever and he has no doubt that she's starting to put things together. "Circumstances change."

"What circumstances?" She frowns. He looks up at her and she sighs hollowly. "Spoilers, am I right?"

He nods.

"Well I hope it's nothing too big. I've got plans you know."

He stays silent, because it is a big spoiler. A huge life-changing, altering spoiler sitting like a dying star on his shoulders and about to explode like a supernova

.

River reaches across the table and takes his hand. "Look, I know whatever you saw or heard probably isn't as small as I'd like it to be, but does it really call for such domesticity?"

He squeezes her hand back. "Humour me."

The whole situation makes her a bit uneasy, but he's also trying to smile and she takes comfort in that. She tells herself that the spoiler might not even have a thing to do with her, maybe he just wants comfort.

So she does go along for him and tells him, like an old married couple, what she did that day. She tells him how during the Byzantium she had actually been trying quite hard to not overreact to seeing a version of him and Amy so young and of her disappointment in not getting a pardon quite yet. She also mentions her visit to her parents and he seems to smile sadly at that. She doesn't know why, though.

The waiter comes back to take their orders. The Doctor orders something small and simple, but she realizes all at once that she's starving and orders the most obscene items on the menu.

"In all the time I've been with you, I don't think I've known you to like any combination of those things," he says teasingly.

"I'm hungry, alright? Beside they just looked so... good."

He chuckles at her and reminds himself that it's just another symptom.

It's her turn to ask about his day, so he tells her about his latest adventure with Clara. He mentions that he hasn't seen River in a while.

She thinks that might have something to do with the spoiler. She pushes it to the back of her head for now.

The food comes in large silver bowls. River's dish looking more like a mash of a thousand different tubers from a thousand different places. He frowns at it, but River is delighted and practically inhales the food.

"You're going to choke on something," he warns. "Slow down."

"Have you never been hungry? Besides, this is very good," she retorts, but listens and slows down slightly.

"Breathe," he reminds her.

She rolls her eyes. "I know how to breathe Doctor."

He sighs. "I know you know."

She raises an eyebrow. "When, exactly, was the last time you saw me?" He's said it's been a while, but she's starting to think a while means decades.

He shrugs and leans back in his chair, scratching his nose for a brief second. "Alvega."

She leans forwards on her elbows, shaking her head. "Haven't done that yet."

"Halcya?" he asks, going through the times he's run into her.

"Nope," she says again.

"What about the otters? Surely we've done that."

She shakes her head. "The last I saw you in this face was at Rebalais Beta. It's nice to know I've got all that to come."

He looks a bit shocked. Rebalais Beta had been quite a while ago for him. Years. "How long ago?"

"Two or three weeks." She lifts up her fork again and continues to eat, eyeing him.

He places the event in his head, deciding it matched up perfectly. "That makes sense."

"Why does that make sense?" she asks around a bite of food.

"No reason," he mutters, picking up his fork as well.

After a moment, River speaks again. "You never answered my question."

"Hmm?" He looks up at her.

"How long has it been since you last saw me?" she repeats.

As both of them grow older, the less reckless they become and the more passionate. Their encounters aren't full of pointless arguing and shameless flirting anymore. Thoughtful gestures and lingering touches replace the desperateness in their kisses and the need to outdo each other. They aren't just good fun to each other any more, they're, for lack of a better word, a married couple. And though their lives are separate and timelines jumbled, they need each other more than either will ever admit.

"A bit over a month... maybe four." He finally tells her. He's been rationing the time he has left with her.

She gives him a sympathetic look. "You haven't been alone have you?"

"No. Clara's been there." _She's not enough,_ he wants to say. _She's not you._ He tries to lighten the mood. "She's kept me sane enough to remember how to plan a date for you."

"Lucky me," River chuckles, being quite fond of the girl. Clara is always a laugh to be around, like many of the Doctor's companions she's interacted with. But unique and clever and with that scent of impossibility. River can feel Clara's complicated timeline just as the Doctor can, and to a Gallifreyan it's refreshing to be around. She also notices that sad look, a look the Doctor sometimes wears, the faraway look that shows Clara knows something bad is going to happen and she can't do a thing about it.

River watches the Doctor as he glances at his watch and that look overcomes him. It's different somehow... there's a bit of hope in there... a bit like he can't decide if what he knows is going to happen is a good thing or a bad thing or both.

"Is your watch telling you the secrets of the universe or something?" River raises her eyebrow.

"Hmm?" He quickly takes his eyes away from the clock face.

"You've got that look on," she says simply.

"What look?" he asks innocently.

"You know what look," she replies. And she's right of course.

He looks at her for a moment, debating as to how he should answer. She can see right through him, and they both know it. "I want to make sure we're back to the TARDIS in time."

"In time for what?" She takes a sip of her water.

"You'll see," he mutters, glancing her over.

She eyes him suspiciously and it does occur to him that he's doing a rubbish job at hiding spoilers, so as the night goes on he puts a bit more effort into it. He keeps up their conversation, making sure there's always a topic of discussion. He even gets her on long trains of thought, letting her ramble. He can tell River appreciates it. She even forgets about the plate in front of her for a while.

By the end of dinner, both are laughing with each other and smiling. He almost forgets the reason they're here, now, until she gets dizzy when she stands. She brushes it off of course, and he lets her for now. She doesn't need the worry, and in all honesty, he's much more worried than he'll admit.

They go to stroll in the garden around the restaurant. The Doctor checks his watch again: they've only got half an hour now. He routes them to be back at the TARDIS accordingly.

"This was lovely," River says, arm in his. "How come we don't do this more often?"

"You'd get bored very quickly and you'd miss the running too much," he replies.

She laughs. "Yes, but I still think we could strike a better balance. These kinds of dates are so rare for us."

"Hey, I tried to do this load of times," he points out.

"And how many of those times ended with us getting nearly blown up?" she teases.

He frowns, then holds up his free hand and counts on his fingers. He runs out of room quite quickly. "Um, twelve. I think."

She nods. "Yes, the other times ended with guns or spears pointed at us."

"Is that a bad thing, Professor?" He raises a thick eyebrow.

She chuckles again. "No. I think you're right. I _do_ like it."

"You love it," he corrects.

"So do you, Mr. Grumpy Face."

This time they both burst out in a fit of laughs, though neither knows why it's so hilarious. The irony of them trying to be 'humany' domestic, just seems ridiculous to the both of them. Running for their lives is their domesticity. Saving worlds and using time as their dance floor, that's their domesticity. It will change, the Doctor knows that. Very, very soon.

She winces. "Oh, I think I strained a muscle from laughing." She runs a hand lightly over her middle.

"Breathe," he murmurs. He adjusts his arm so it's around her waist, as if getting ready to catch her if she falls.

She doesn't mind, though. She leans into him, enjoying him close. "I want to sit."

"Are you tired?" He looks at her.

She shakes her head. "No, I just want to sit with you."

He hesitates, thinking it might throw them off the schedule in his head. "...Alright. But, only for a bit."

"Your surprise can wait," she insists, finding a bench to sit.

"It really can't." He follows, settling beside her.

"You're worried," she says.

The comment surprises him. He hadn't been covering up spoilers as much as he'd hoped. That, or River was just very good at reading him. Probably the latter.

"Am not."

"Are, too." She takes his hand, rubbing her thumb over his palm. "Will you tell me?"

His spine stiffens. He knows one word out of line will result in her piecing everything together and who knows what would happen then. "I..." He tries to think quickly about how to respond. "I've just missed you is all." His hand tightens around hers. "This is the first time in a while we've been in sync."

She nods to show her understanding, briefly thinking about a day in the future, when she'll have to face a young Doctor who doesn't know her. He's already lived that day of course, both of them know it. She wonders if the same will happen to him, if there's a day coming for him where she won't know who he is. There is. She's already lived it, they both know it.

"You were in uni the last time I saw you," He says, staring at the ground. "You pushed me away. You didn't like my new face."

"I know. I remember." She whispers. "I'm sorry. If it's any consolation, I quite like your new face." She turns his head to face her, cupping his jaw. She presses a soft kiss to his lips, which quickly turns more passionate.

He manages a smile for her, hoping this was enough to keep her away from spoilers. He checks his watch once they break apart and- oh no - it can't be that time already. They were only sitting for, well, clearly it was more than a few minutes. Maybe they'd been kissing for longer than he thought.

He stands quickly. "We have to go."

Penny in the air.

"What, why?" She frowns, crossing his arms. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Well... ish. Just- come on. We have to get to the TARDIS." He pulls on her arm.

She stands and follows, disappointed. "Doctor, what is going on?"

They are walking fast, now, the Doctor urgent. "It would help if you didn't keep asking," he mutters. "I'll explain soon. Just... remember to breathe."

The gears in River's mind click into place and the whole mask of a nice evening falling away. He can see the light from the TARDIS around the corner, but he feels River's arm yank away from his. He turns and sees her refusing to move.

"Why do you keep saying that?!" Her eyes are icy, and he knows now that he can't hide. It's too late, anyhow. "I know how to bloody breathe."

Penny drops.

Her eyes widen in a horrified realization. "You kept saying that to mum. She told me, right before- oh my god!" She takes a step back.

He approaches her, running his hands along her arms. "River, please. Calm down. It's okay, just come inside the TARDIS."

"No!" She pushes him away. "Just tell me, am I flesh? Am I... how long have you known this?" She looks scared, properly scared.

"You're not flesh. You're real, 100% real. I can explain everything to you if you just come inside the TARDIS." He keeps his voice steady, hoping it might help her calm down.

She doesn't move, but she doesn't run either, allowing him to approach her.

"Then why do you keep telling me to breathe?" Her voice is quiet, timid almost.

He takes her hands, holding them tightly. "Because you really need to. Right now."

She stares up at him then listens, taking a slow deep breath, more to calm herself. Nothing happens so she takes another one, getting a grip on herself and calming down. She has to trust the Doctor now, trust that he'll get them through this, whatever this is.

On the third deep breath, a sudden pain jolts through her, invoking a surprised a gasp. She doubles over, but the Doctor is right there to support her. "What's happening?" she groans. She can feel her knees wanting to give out. "I swear to Rassilon, if you lied to me-"

"-I didn't lie. I said you weren't flesh." He urges her forward, finally getting her to stumble in the direction of the blue box. "I didn't say anything about a baby."

"A... baby?" She stares up at him, some mix of confusion and horror on her face.

He nods as they step into the safety of the TARDIS. "Surprise."

"No. No. I'm not... I'm not pregnant." She shakes her head.

"Yes you are." He helps her sit on the jump seat, another wave of pain racing through her.

"I can't be!" she protests. "Even if that were true, it wouldn't... I'm not... It doesn't work like this." She gestures down to her middle, which was a far cry from looking like there was a person growing in there.

"It does when you're carrying a Timelord." He pulls the scanner around so she can see the results of a body scan. "There. Hard proof, you can't argue with it. We're having a baby, pretty much right now."

She shakes her head again. "I... I don't understand," she swallows.

"And I don't really have time to explain. You need to be in the medbay, I have to get you ready."

"No. No! You are going bloody properly tell me what is going on and how this is all possible." Her sentence ends with a loud moan. She doesn't want any of this, she doesn't want a child.

"Okay..." He scrubs a hand over his face before crouching in front of her, taking her hands again. "Okay." He takes a breath. "Think of it like a, a, a slingshot or something. A loaded spring. You pull it back and give it a lot of potential energy and when you release it that energy becomes different... a driving force. That's how it works: a fetus is created but doesn't grow yet."

Three weeks ago when River last saw the Doctor.

"It spends anywhere from two to four weeks gathering up as much energy as it can."

The exhaustion he saw on River when he'd picked her up. "But the mum won't notice it. No one will notice it unless they are truly looking. Even the symptoms don't present until the fetus is ready to... release the spring."

River's appetite and cravings for something she hated. Her dizziness and nausea. All leading up to now.

"Then it grows all at once. It can take up to an hour, but usually it's much faster. Look."

He points to her middle and her eyes trail down. Her stomach is a bit rounder now, much to River's surprise and panic. Her dress isn't fit for maternity. "That's why it hurts so much. Your body is stretching all of a sudden, spring released. Now it's gaining velocity. It'll get faster until it stops. Then it's time to push."

"Are you telling me the pain gets worse?" she asks, strained against it.

He nods, "Nothing I can do about that." He realizes that she's squeezing his hands very tightly.

"I don't want a baby, Doctor. I can't be a mother." It's more of a plea than a confession. "Make this stop. I don't want it." Panic is taking over.

"You don't have a choice now. This is happening now whether you're ready or not."

"But I'm _not_ ready. I'll never _be_ ready," she whimpers, clutching his hand.

"You will be. I've seen it," he blurts out. He doesn't want her to be afraid.

She looks at him, confused. "...Spoilers."

"No, not this time. I've seen you in the future, Riv. Protecting our baby. Well, I didn't actually see our baby, but thinking back to it, I know now that that's what you were hiding." She moans again, so he tries to speed up his words. "I've seen you fight with me to protect our child and avoid spoilers, I've seen you look so happy thinking about it. You will be an amazing mother, River."

"No. I can't. _We_ can't. We're-"

"Time travelers, yes. And I know our lives are screwed up and backwards and dangerous, but that's about to change. We are about to change because a little life is going to be dependant on the both of us." The thought voiced allowed makes River even more terrified than she already is. "We are going to figure it out together. We're going to make it work. We already have. Right now I need you to be okay with that."

She takes a few more breaths, clearly lost somewhere in thought. "We're going to have a baby." Her voice is quiet and questioning. They've not talked much about kids before, so it's all in a rush. "Like a real... actual baby."

"Yes."

In the midst of the pain and all the fear of what could go wrong, she truly stops to think about it. A baby. Her baby, their baby. A child of of time, made (unintentionally) by the two of them. Made out of love. For a moment, it could be as simple as that. For a moment, she could see a family of just the three of them.

Her focus turns to her abdomen, staring a bit mesmerized. There's a little person in there, no doubt now. A bit of her and a bit of him and just the right amount of time. She can sense that bit, but she doesn't know why. It's the same sensation when she smells time on the Doctor. But of course she can't smell her baby right now, just feel. Feel it grow, pulsating with energy and stretching her and- "Ooh!" She winces, thinking that that muscle really shouldn't stretch like that.

The Doctor wonders if Clara will wake at the noise River's making. Not really his biggest priority right now, though.

She tries to breathe and refocus, hand unconsciously rubbing the side of her now noticeably round belly. Her dress is uncomfortably tight. "How much time do we have?"

"You look half to term, now," he answers gently. "Probably less than twenty minutes. Closer to ten."

She nods slowly, retreating back into her own mind. It's definitely not enough time to have all the thoughts she wants to have, especially with the pain interrupting. It's grown to a constant ache, making her feel quite exhausted. She wants more time.

Her mind travels back to the subject at hand and she can feel the time in her child. Like the smell, like regeneration energy but softer and newer. She realizes the feeling is the baby's mind, a sudden presence in the back of hers. Reaching out, exploring, connecting. It's like the Doctor's mind, but much less burdened, newer, and one-of-a-kind: Theirs.

She starts to get a sense of what the Doctor was saying to her. They aren't a normal family, they never were and never will be, but that's alright. It might even be the best part. They won't sit still and be domestic. They'll have their family on their own terms.

River feels a kick against her hand, eliciting a soft gasp from her. "I can feel it."

"I know." He says. He offers a warm smile, one she takes great comfort it. He can see on her face that she's found her anchor. A focus.

"The dinner tonight... how long have you known?" Her mind, now that the fear has been dampened a bit, fills with questions.

"I only realized when I picked you up," he says.

"How?"

"It's hard to explain. It was a bit like feeling. Also, your mind looked different." He tries to explain. "I was going to take you dancing, too." She pouts a little. "I'll make it up to you later."

"...Are you okay with this?" She stares past him.

"About as okay as you are," he admits. "But I've had all evening to come to terms with it."

Her eyes eventually find his again. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

He sighs. "I... I didn't want to ruin your evening. It was supposed to be something nice and calm before all this..." He makes a vague hand gesture towards all of her. "...excitement."

"That's a word for it."

"Yeah." He nods, "Will you come to the medbay now? We've got to get ready. We're going to be parents very soon."

She takes a breath, trying to steady her nerves. With his help, she stands but immediately regrets the decision. "Oh god, it feels like it's in my knees!" Her entire balance has been rerouted along with her centre of gravity. She clings to the Doctor so she won't fall over and he holds her fast. River tries to force herself to adjust to the new weight pressing firmly down on her pelvis. She feels swollen and stiff. Cinder blocks may as well be glued to her feet.

She whimpers and the Doctor starts to realize that their time is up. River realizes, too. Not but a few steps towards the medbay does she suddenly cry out, clutching her now very apparent midsection. They exchange nervous glances then hear a splash of fluid. Neither has to look down to know what's happened. River shouts again, doubling over. The pain is no longer from the baby growing. These are full force contractions. She collapses onto her hands and knees, breathing heavily.

They hear footsteps from the upstairs hall, then Clara's cross voice. River isn't listening, hearing something along the limes of 'I swear to god if you're shagging on the console again I'll send you both into your next regeneration.'

The Doctor momentarily gives Clara his attention. She's in her pajamas, plaid bottoms and a tank top, looking very much like she'd been woken from sleep. Before he can explain, her tone turns to concern and she's running down the stairs and asking what is going on.

River tries to muffle her noises, using the position she's in to rock herself, attempting to relieve any pressure she can.

"Oh. My. God. River's pregnant! How- what is going on Doctor?" Clara demands.

"Do I really need to explain to you the birds and the bees?" he huffs, rubbing his wife's back.

"You never mentioned a baby before!"

"Long story, no time for it right now. Go to the medbay, get as many towels as you can. And clamps and scissors," he orders.

"But-" she protests.

"Go!" he interrupts.

Clara runs off, not having time to question their fancy clothes, and the Doctor is able to return his attention to River. "Can you stand?"

She shakes her head, puffing. "H-hurts."

"Come here." He manages to get her into his arms and carries her to the medbay where Clara is anxiously biting her fingernails. He lays River down on the cot.

"Mmph! My back! Doctor this puts too much pressure there." River voices the discomfort immediately.

He thinks for a moment, then helps her to lie on her side, pillows behind her so she won't roll back over and put a sheet to cover her legs. He then crouches in front of her, one hand holding hers, the other around her to put counter pressure on her back. She exhales with the small bit of relief, eyes closed tightly.

For a moment, the room melts away and it's just the two of them, almost as if it were a normal pregnancy. Almost like it were planned down to the last detail. A normal birth with handholding and ice chips. Some things are similar: handholding can be checked off the list. Mutual soon-to-be-parent fear: that was normal, too (they hoped).

River bites her lip as the pain peaks again, not wanting to scream. The Doctor knows, though, how much it hurts from how hard she's squeezing hand. Clara can only guess from the corner of the room she's now occupying.

He brushes a curl from her dampening forehead. "Tell me what you're feeling, River."

She looks up at him to glare, but soon realizes he wants to know so he can know what to do next.

"Pressure." Her free hand presses flat against the underside of her large middle. "A lot of it, here." She grimaces, hand tightening around his, groaning.

"...Are you pushing?"

She nods guiltily. "It's too much. I can't help it." Pain shoots through her, catching her off guard. "Augh!" She curls in on herself, hands clawing for something to grip and quickly finding her husband's hand. He can tell that she's definitely bearing down now, suddenly all instinct.

Her face is red by the time the pain dies down enough for her to breathe. She releases his hand, panting. He wastes no time repositioning himself at the end of the bed. "Pull your knee up," he instructs.

River does so, her foot moving to push against his shoulder. He provides a counter force and rubs her leg as an act of comfort. It vaguely occurs to him that they're still in formal dress, but by now neither cares if their clothes get ruined.

"Should I help?" Clara asks worriedly.

He gestures with his head for her to come over. "Help River keep her leg up."

Clara approaches. "Wouldn't it be easier for her to lie on her back?"

"Hurts too much." River answers, still gasping.

"Side-lying is a fine position for birth." The Doctor adds.

They see River visibly tense up, listening to what her body is screaming at her to do. She still fights against her voice, trying to hold back her shout. She grips the bed sheets and lets out a keening moan. Her foot pushes forcefully against the Doctor, but he and Clara hold it steady as she pushes.

Everything about her labour is fast-paced, that being the Timelord side of it. River can already feel the baby stretching her in places she didn't know could stretch that way. It's a whole new level painful, but it also mesmerises her in a way. Life that she created, life that she is bearing into this universe and, again, she can feel it like time.

"I can see the head, River." The Doctor says, the tones of his voice unmistakably that of an almost-parent.

Clara makes a point of not looking at the crowning head, more for her own comfort. "You're doing great." Clara says a bit awkwardly, hoping she sounds encouraging. She feels rather like she's intruding on something private, though is also honored to be witness to such a moment.

River focuses on her breathing as the next spasm of pain grips her. She decides it's not worth the effort to hold back on the yelling, so she voices her agony. Very loudly, with lots of obscenities, and in a language only the Doctor recognizes.

As the pushing goes on, agony is not at all on over-statement. She feels like she can hardly breathe after each new contraction tears through her. More and more of her starts to ache and even tremble with exhaustion and pain. Her hips feel like they're being wrenched apart and there's unbearable pressure in her entire pelvic area. She pants and cries out and grips the sheets in her hands, all trying to force the child from her body.

On top of it all, her mind won't stop racing. Everything she wants for her child and everything she doesn't. The fear of this child being hurt by someone, taken, or used. The fear of being just a mother. Her thoughts just keep coming and even the pain can't block out everything.

She screams with the next contraction, this one being the worst yet. Clara can't help but wince in empathy for the woman's pain. River's chest heaves with her struggling breath.

"The head's out," the Doctor murmurs, shifting to support it with his hands. "Just a few more pushes."

Suddenly it's all too much for her and a knot of panic sinks into her gut. She's going to be a mum, a real prober mum with a real, proper baby. It overwhelms her like a sudden wave and she can't handle it. More pain and more thoughts and through the haze she shouts, "I can't!"

"You can," is the Doctor's immediate response. Holding his child's head in his hands, he knows she can do it all.

"No, I really, really can't!" she pleads again, straining against a contraction.

He looks up at Clara. "I need you to take my place."

"What?!" Clara's eyes widen.

"Come here, I need you to support its head," he says again, impatient.

"But I... I don't know what to do!" she protests.

He shifts so he can pull Clara to his side and guide her hand down to where it needs to be. "Just hold it up like that, yeah. It's like catching a ball, only it's alive and squishy and not ball-shaped. And if you drop it I'll throw you into the time vortex," he adds.

Clara makes some sort of incoherent noise of understanding, rather terrified she's delivering her best friends' baby.

Sure that Clara won't make a wrong move, the Doctor gets up and stands. He finds a rag, runs it under cool water, then goes to River's side. He runs it along her forehead and on the side of her face and takes over holding River's leg up. "You _can_ do this."

She shakes her head. "No, it's too much. I ca- Ngh!" Her face contorts and her hand reaches out for him, fisting the lapels of his jacket.

"I know it hurts, but you're so close now," he urges, prying her hand off so he can hold it.

"I'm not ready," she whimpers. "I'm not a mother."

He blinks at her, realizing that it's more her fear that's holding her back than the pain. "You are a mother. We have a child and I promise you'll feel better once it's in your arms."

She turns her head into the pillow, hiding her face. "I'm going to screw up. I'm going to hurt it."

"No you won't. I've seen you be amazing at it-"

"Time can be rewritten," she whispers, interrupting. "Time can change. I'm a psychopath. I can't... I can't..." She trails off into a moan of pain, refusing to push (though the task is rather difficult to maintain).

"You are so much more, River. The psychopath is what Kovarian made, but River Song is so much more. You're kind and brilliant and beautiful. You're the bravest person I know." He cups her cheek, trying to get her to look at him. His words are sincere and he means it all. "It will be complicated and messy and chaotic, even, but when isn't it? You are so strong, love. Stronger than you can imagine. If anyone can do this, it's you."

She finally turns her head back to him, eyes red and watery. She wants to blame the hormones on that.

"I'm not saying we won't make mistakes, we're not perfect, but that's okay. It won't be the end of the universe. We'll learn. We'll do this together. You won't have to be alone." He brings her knuckles up to his lips and kisses them softly. "I'll never push you away."

She nods. "I'm scared."

"It'll be alright." He leans down and kisses her forehead. "Let's be scared together."

She breathes and searches around for any (physical) strength she has left in her, allowing her body to take over. She lets out an agonized cry as she bears down again, clinging to the Doctor like her lives depend on it.

Clara looks like a deer caught in a headlight. "What am I supposed to do?"

"It's not transdimensional engineering, just support the baby as it comes," the Doctor tells her.

Clara steadies her hands, not wanting to get thrown into the vortex. The push forces one of the baby's shoulders out and Clara announces the progress.

"Once both shoulders come out, gently pull on them to help it out," he instructs. Clara nods and River whimpers in pain. "One more push love."

She's sure the next contraction is going to rip her apart and kill her. She's not sure she has it in her to push again, but he's there … her Doctor… supporting her and holding her hand and she thinks what a wonderful father he will be. "Aaugh!" She feels like she really is being killed, the next wave of pain peaking , making her vision go white. She screams, the sound echoing off the walls of the room. He holds her through it.

The baby slips from her body into Clara's hands, amniotic fluid and blood staining the bed and the bottom of River's dress. She goes limp and flops onto her back, the sudden stop of the pain so very welcomed. She closes her eyes as she get a hold of her breathing.

The Doctor, for some reason, continues to watch her carefully. There's some magic to the way the expression of discomfort melts from her face, replaced by a smooth neutral, but her breathing does not regulate at all and the sweat still glistens, fresh.

Clara grabs a nearby towel, readjusting the baby in her arms. It's red and small and she's really unsure of what to do now, still in shock that she's just helped the little infant into the world. "Doctor... you have a son."

The baby wiggles unhappily before finally going to tests his lungs. He mewls and whimpers then wails. Not as loudly as his mother had, but it's loud enough. He's very upset with his new surrounding. It's too bright and too cold.

The Doctor looks up finally, eyes scanning carefully and curiously over the infant, and deems silently that he looks plenty like his mother. He stands slowly, taking his son. "He wants his Mum," he murmurs, unable to keep from smiling at the crying boy. He places the baby on River's chest and the newborn immediately quiets.

River opens her eyes, her arms automatically moving to wrap around the baby. Her baby. "Oh my..." she gasps, curls still clinging to her forehead. "...Hello." She lets her son's tiny little hand wrap around her finger. The tears start of their own accord, blurring her vision as she beams. She can hardly remember the last time she cried in this body.

The Doctor sits next to her. "Told you it would be alright."

"...It's amazing," she corrects quietly.

"What shall we call him?" he asks.

She shrugs, too wrapped up to think properly about names. "Do you have any ideas?"

He nods. "Ian Wilfred Song."

She finally takes her eyes off the baby, looking up at her husband. "I love it."

"Welcome to the world, Ian," the Doctor murmurs. He kisses River's head again. "Thank you."

She lets out a watery chuckle and holds her family close. She never knew such a joy existed, and it's more than she could ever have known to asked for. She kisses Ian's forehead. His skin is new and soft, and, yes... _He smells like time._


End file.
